


Ricorderai

by 994527



Category: Formula 1 RPF, MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/994527/pseuds/994527
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motorskink prompt: Valentino Rossi seducing Fernando Alonso.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Piacere

**Author's Note:**

> Set at Wrooom 2010 or a similar event :)

Fernando woke up and smiled as he felt the warm of the sun on his face. He was in Italy, he was driving for Ferrari, and he was free of Ron Dennis. Life was good.

Or was it?

His brow furrowed as he felt the bed move ever so slightly and it slowly filtered through to his brain that he wasn’t alone.

_Oh no._

He opened his eyes slowly and narrowed them to protect them from the sun, brighter as it reflected on the snow, as he waited for his brain to process the images. Bed, hotel room, balcony, view…all as they should be. _Or…isn’t my view more to the left?!_

Panic started.

_This is not my room._

He quickly appraised the situation.

_Not my room. Same hotel. Not much memory. Someone in the bed. And I’m naked._

He slowly turned over to check out his companion.

“Ciao.”

Fernando felt his face freeze in a picture of shock as he stared into those eyes.

“Non ricordi?”

He shook his head slowly and Valentino chuckled.

“Ricorderai.”

He kept staring and the Italian got bored of waiting for a reaction and got out the bed, strolling towards the bathroom, stretching his arms above his head and giving Fernando a full view of everything. That did the trick. Memory = de vuelta.

*

“And let me introduce you to someone I’m sure you’ve crossed paths with before. Valentino, Fernando…Fernando, Valentino.”

The Italian extended his hand and Fernando shook it, trying to take the measure of him in person. They had met before, albeit briefly, but this was the first time they’d been introduced. The first time they’d come face to face. The first time they were going to race.

“Piacere.”

Valentino smiled at him in return and repeated his greeting before letting his gaze get caught by someone over the other side of the room. Fernando stared at him for a split second as he automatically felt a flash of irritation. _I’ve never met you before, and you’re not even looking at me._

*

Valentino had felt it the second he’d seen him in person for the first time. And the second he’d read what the Asturian had said about him, way back in 2006. It wasn’t just that he found him attractive; he also found him intriguing, which was much more dangerous, and he was immediately hit with the realization that he absolutely, completely _had_ to have him. Whether for 5 minutes in the bathroom after the races or for hours in his hotel room later, he _had_ to have him. And that feeling was rare, off the track. Focus, determination, complete self-belief: Fernando was the top step of the day’s podium and Vale had decided he was going to be on top of it, or embarrass himself trying.

He felt the shockwave of electricity surge through him as they shook hands and immediately looked away and out into the crowd, finding Nicky’s gaze and nodding at his new teammate. _This will not be won in a handshake._

He watched Fernando’s slight flare of irritation at how he thought the Italian wasn’t paying him enough attention and smiled to himself. _So you do want me to want to know you, then?_ He suddenly locked eyes with the Spaniard once more and watched as the irritation faded, replaced by interest.

_Maybe I won’t have to embarrass myself at all._

He leaned in slightly and smiled.

“It’s good to meet you. And it will be even better to beat you.”

The Spaniard laughed, slightly nervously, and Valentino took a sip of his water and laughed to himself as Fernando’s gaze betrayed the confused battle between delight and impetuosity raging in his brain.

_And even better to fuck you._

*

_It’s because he’s Valentino Rossi._

Fernando tried to rationalize as he sat there waiting for green. Normally, at this point in a race, his brain would be switched off to all external chatter. But he hadn’t been able to switch the Italian off. He could still feel his brain whirring through the strangely affecting experience of having met him.

_But I met Michael Schumacher, and he was just a man. I met Prost and Stewart and Agostini and…nothing._

His heart rate amped up as he looked to his left and watched the 9-time champion get into the kart. 

_This didn’t happen. This…whatever this is._

Valentino suddenly turned to him and winked before slamming his visor down and revving the throttle. Fernando suddenly felt that same 2006 feeling; that desperate, desperate want to bring him down a few notches.

_Nothing like this happened._

*

Valentino allowed himself an audible laugh inside his helmet as he winked at the Spaniard and clicked his visor down. He tested out the throttle and moved himself in the seat slightly, readying for war.

_He must think the challenge has actually come to pass._

Valentino had long since given up on the idea of it, and he used the last few seconds before the lights went out to make an entirely different tactical decision to try and win an entirely different race.

_If I win, will you just walk away?_

He glanced back at him briefly and nodded to himself.

_If YOU win, you’ll have to come back. You won’t be able to resist._

The Italian lodged that with his brain and got ready.

_We’re racing for 2nd._

*

Valentino was slightly impressed. It hadn’t been a case of holding station, it had been a case of hanging on. 

They were now in formal attire and were attending a dinner. Valentino wasn’t really sure what it was for, but then neither was anyone else so he hadn’t tried particularly hard to find out. He was, however, sat opposite Fernando, which is something he’d not only found out, but manufactured.

He’d kept it completely neutral for the first half hour. Then he’d allowed himself to spend just a touch more time on him, paying him attention, listening to what he was saying, investing in his words and feeling his face naturally light up and drop depending on what the Spaniard said. The glances were often ignored, but more and more they shared a quick moment as something around them was funny, or strange, or just wrong. They seemed to agree on what constituted wrong and aired those grievances between themselves.

Valentino then ‘accidentally’ brushed Fernando’s leg under the table and looked up at him in apology. No words; no need to let everyone else know what had happened. The Ferrari driver gestured at him that it was fine, and they carried on.

The next time he did it, he watched as Fernando clicked for the first time that maybe that wasn’t accidental. The Spaniard started to look at him and Valentino nonchalantly looked down at his food and ignored him, allowing only a small smile as any sign that he was aware of what had happened.

He looked up when he thought Fernando had looked away and found himself eye to eye with the Asturian.

_Got ya._

Valentino raised one eyebrow ever-so-slightly and watched in satisfaction as Fernando’s face went slightly pink.

_Oooh yeah, I’ve got ya._

*

 _Look at it this way: if that was a woman, you would be sure. Even if that was Maria Sharapova, you would_ still _be sure._

Fernando got to his feet and headed for the bathroom, if anything because he wanted a couple of seconds of silence to let his nerves calm down.

_But why does it matter? I’m not interested._

He pushed open the door and leant against a sink in relief, alone in there and staring himself down in the mirror.

_I’m definitely not interested. Right?_

He heard the door go behind him and looked up to catch Valentino walking in.

_Right._

*

Fernando stayed where he was as Valentino walked up behind him. Waiting. Waiting waiting waiting to see who would move first. Eventually, the Asturian turned and they were face to face. Valentino leant one hand on the surface either side of the Spaniard’s hips and leaned forward so they were inches apart.

“You beat me.”

“I told you I would.”

Valentino smiled and leaned in fully, pressing his lips against the Ferrari driver’s ear. “Luckily I have hidden talents.” He moved back and watched his words sink in as he took in the sight of his rival’s eyes, now black pools trying desperately to betray nothing.

“Really.”

Valentino got tired of waiting and nodded, slowly moving his left hand under Fernando’s jacket, feeling the skin shiver in response. He traced the curve of the other man’s body until his fingertips were working their way under the waistband of his trousers, pushing a bit further, eventually having enough in his grasp to make it worthwhile giving it a gentle squeeze. Something in the Spaniard snapped, and his lips were suddenly on Valentino’s, and they were suddenly six feet further back, struggling to lock the door of the stall.

Fernando tasted of the red wine on the table, and Valentino realised he probably tasted the same. The initial flash of desire calmed slightly and their tongues explored and enjoyed each other before Valentino gently, but not too gently, nipped Fernando’s bottom lip and he pulled away. The Ferrari driver’s eyes were closed and his chest was heaving up and down as he waited for whatever was going to come next.

“I like how you let me be in control.”

Valentino leant in again and traced a line down his neck with his tongue, pressing himself against him, feeling the younger’s man’s cock straining against his own and feeling a stab of satisfaction at having won this, the more important victory of the day.

“I want to be inside you.”

Valentino felt the shiver go down the Asturian’s spine and pushed his hips against his rival, friction making them both press harder to the wall of the stall in a bid to stay upright.

“And I always get what I want.”

He clicked open Fernando’s trousers and slowly, slowly pulled down the zip.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

A slight pause filled with the sound of the Spaniard’s panting breath. “Yes.” Fernando nodded, eyes still closed, chest still heaving.

“I didn’t hear you. Do you want me to fuck you?!”

“Y-Yes. Please.”

Valentino felt himself get even harder at hearing him actually _ask_. He pulled down the driver’s trousers and boxers in one quick movement and went back to that low whisper in his rival’s ear that seemed to have the desired effect. “I can’t hear you. I said...do you want me to fuck you?!”

“YES! FUCK ME. PLEASE, FUCK ME.”

Valentino smiled and got to his knees, dipping his head and running the tip of his tongue from the base of Fernando’s cock to the tip as the Spaniard gave an involuntary shudder and the back of his head pressed against the wall.

“Please, please, please just fuck me. Just…please...” 

He trailed off as Valentino’s mouth wrapped around him and took as much of him into his mouth as he could, slowly pulling back and circling the tip with his tongue. He stood up again and pressed his lips against the Spaniard’s once more.

“You asked nicely. Room 1203. I’ll be waiting for you.”

The Italian then unlocked the door and walked away, leaving Fernando groaning in frustration and trying to close it before anybody came in.

_Please, please…_


	2. Monaco or Monza?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, for the love of Yamalube, tell me if you like it. I've rewritten it so many times...!

Valentino sat on the edge of his bed and smiled. He’d gone back to the table, sat down, finished the conversation and espresso, and then made his excuses and left. Fernando had emerged from the bathroom and stopped off at every single person he knew on his way back, eventually only arriving at the table as he saw Valentino start to leave. The Italian didn’t push the issue, just looked at him, tried to weigh it up, whether he would show.

He had left with a smirk and the knowledge that he’d definitely be having a visitor.

As the radio on the TV announced it was 11pm, there was a knock at the door. Valentino walked over and opened it as though he wasn’t expecting anyone, wasn’t excited, didn’t really mind who it was. He’d perfected that, and it came in useful more often than he’d like to admit. He was never really sure if it was him, or his looks, or his job, or his reputation that made them knock, but he made sure that his face betrayed nothing if not faint surprise.

“Come in…”

The fidgeting Spaniard stood in the hallway heeded his advice and stepped past him.

“I’m not here for that.”

Valentino turned and raised his eyebrows at him. “Really.”

“I’m here because I wanted to say that it isn’t going to happen.” 

_Ah. Because you thought not coming would make you seem like a coward._ “That’s not what you said earlier when you were almost on your knees, begging me to fuck you.”

Fernando went slightly red and broke the eye contact. “That was a moment of weakness.”

“Was it?” Vale moved closer and stared at him, waiting for the inevitable moment when he searched the eye contact out again. “Or was it actually a moment when you were brave enough to ask for what you want?”

Fernando’s eyes locked back onto his and a flash of anger crossed them. “No.”

“So if I do this…” Valentino reached a hand out and pinched the top button of the Spaniard’s shirt between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ll tell me to stop.”

Fernando’s teeth were gritted and he was resolutely trying to nod at him. “Y-yes.”

“So you want me to stop?” Three buttons were now undone and Vale traced a finger from adam’s apple down to where the shirt began. “Just say it and I will…”

The Asturian was almost shaking with the effort required to say it. “Yes. Stop.”

Vale snatched his hand back and watched the effort turn into disappointment, letting a sideways smile cross his face. “You know what I think? I think you want to be able to tell yourself that it wasn’t your fault. So, nevermind. Bye.” He made as if to return to the door and open it before a hand clamped around his arm.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t play games.”

“I’m not the one playing.”

They stared at each other before Fernando nodded again. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe that’s true.”

Valentino took a step forward. “I know it’s true, it’s just whether you’re going to listen to it or not.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to scream.” The Italian grinned at him wickedly and raised an eyebrow, opening the remaining buttons and roughly tugging the shirt tails from Fernando’s belt. “But if you like games, we can play one. We can play the one we played in the bathroom; where you beg me for what you want and this time, I give it to you.”

Fernando pulled off the shirt. “You like being in control?”

Valentino nodded and pulled off his own shirt, throwing it on top of the Spaniard’s and walking slowly towards him until he was backed up against the wall. Their locked eyes again, closer than before, and Vale could see the excitement, and fear, and nerves, all reflected back at him. He leaned down slightly and pressed his lips against the Ferrari driver’s, slower than before, everything more controlled, feeling the younger’s man cock pushing against him as his tongue did the same, suddenly eager for everything he’d said he didn’t want, at all.

Valentino smiled into the kiss as a few faint whimpers left the Spaniard’s mouth. “I know what I like.” He pulled away and dropped to his knees as Fernando closed his eyes and leant his head back on the wall. Valentino undid the top button with his fingers then leant forward and took the zip in his mouth, pulling it down slowly and feeling the shiver as he brushed against the younger man’s erection. _Patience._ He pulled down the trousers and boxers and took a glance upwards to see if he still had his eyes closed. _Still in some sort of denial. How sweet._ Vale traced a line from hip inwards with his forefinger, slowly as he dare before he thought Fernando would crack, finally reaching his destination and tracing up his shaft before circling the tip with his tongue. 

The Ferrari driver’s knees buckled slightly and a gasp echoed across the room.

“I’ll ask you again. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

Valentino smiled. _So sure. So quick to answer._ He took him in his mouth, but instead of closing it, circled his head gently, letting the inside of his mouth make the contact. A groan sounded and fingers tangled their way into the Italian’s hair. Valentino sped up slightly, feeling those fingers pull and tug in rhythm with what he was doing, before suddenly stopping and getting back to his feet, pressing his lips against Fernando’s again and judging how much the frustration had returned. A lot. The Ferrari driver’s hands tousled with Valentino’s top jeans button, finally freeing him and pulling them free, wrestling both of them towards the bed. Vale let him push them both before turning and being the one pinning Fernando down. He sat on him and enjoyed the gentle friction as the Spaniard responded to everything he did.

“Do you want me to stop now?”

“No.”

Vale smiled and nodded. “Good.”

He moved one hand behind his rival’s back and gently tried to hint at what he was getting at. _Turn over._ Fernando leaned up for one last kiss before obeying and turning.

Valentino couldn’t quite believe it was happening. In the bathroom, he’d thought that maybe it was because of the situation, because of how confident he himself seemed, because Fernando didn’t usually do this. But he realised that it was none of the above, he just liked it. He liked being directed. 

The Italian stretched and opened the top drawer of his bedside cabinet and pulled out his tube of lube, chuckling slightly as he did every time because of the packaging – someone had found it at some point and written “YAMALUBE” on it in permanent marker – before squeezing some into his hand and feeling Fernando tense up at the sound.

“Relax.”

He did, slightly, but not enough.

Vale ran his finger from the small of Fernando’s back before gently and slowly pushing it inside him, feeling the resistance, feeling the Spaniard’s body naturally just telling him ‘no’.

“I said relax.”

Vale suddenly slapped Fernando’s ass with his other hand and felt a shiver of want hit him as the appreciative yelp in return reached his ears. Fernando relaxed. Valentino continued, adding another finger and daring to lean down and sink his teeth, reasonably lightly, into Fernando’s left cheek. His back arched in response.

“Now, now, come on…Now.”

“What do you say?”

“Please.”

“What do you want?”

“Just…Please! Fuck me. Please. Now.”

Valentino slowly removed his fingers and kissed the bottom of Fernando’s back. He pressed gently at first and felt the Spaniard relax and push back against him until, finally, he was inside him and the Ferrari driver’s fingers were desperately clawing at handfuls of sheet.

“Ok?”

Fernando nodded and whimpered again slightly. “Just do it.”

Valentino slowly started to move back and forward, trying to measure the reaction, wondering if Fernando had ever done this before, wondering if he was enjoying it, wondering if he wanted Monaco or Monza, slow or fast, hard or gentle, wondering if he should grab a handful of his hair and really do what he wanted.

“I said…I wanted you to fuck me. Stop…being…gentle.”

Valentino dug his fingers into Fernando’s hips in response, pulling him back towards him roughly, feeling his back arch further. He started to up the pace, listening to the panting going from measured and controlled to ragged and muffled as the Spaniard smothered his face in the pillow, one hand bracing against the wall behind the bed as finally, he was getting what he wanted. Valentino moved one hand around and wrapped his fingers around Fernando’s cock as he could feel the pressure start to build inside his own, letting go any vanity and feeling the Ferrari driver grunt and respond in kind as he went harder and faster, faintly aware that the noise of the bed banging on the wall may raise suspicion. 

“I’m …going…to…”

Valentino heard the words and finally let his own self-control evaporate as they broke the rhythm, somehow holding each other slightly off the bed as they came together and Vale rested his forehead against the Spaniard’s back. There were a few moments of silence punctuated by the sound of their breathing, before Valentino spoke first.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.”

The Italian rolled off Fernando and stared at the ceiling, covered in sweat.

“Fuck that was good.”

Fernando just kept his head buried in the pillow and groaned again slightly.

“Fuuuuck.”

*

_I remember._

Fernando listened as the toilet flushed and then the shower was turned on in the bathroom.

_But do I regret?_

He looked at the clock and was surprised how early it was. 

_Still time for..._

He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. _For what?_

_Just admit it and do it. Just...let yourself do what you want._

He lay there debating for 2 or 3 minutes as he let his cheeks go red at the memory of the night before, before throwing the covers back and getting to his feet, staring out at the view as he walked over to the bathroom.

"Room for one more?"

*

FIN (Aki Ajo)


End file.
